Short Sherlolly Stories
by SoManyWords
Summary: Just a collection of short Sherlolly stories.


Hamish

Molly watched the room slowly turn from light to dark, combing her fingers through her son's hair.

He'd rested his head on her chest and allowed her to do so, speaking at a lightning pace about his day. Her shirt was soaked with his tears.

He'd been crying. Again.

"But mother, I do not _understand_!" He told her, frustration evident in his tone, "Why me? What have I ever done to them?"

Molly sighed softly, continuously combing her fingers through his hair. "You're different. They don't like that," Her voice was gentle. Soothing.

They fell silent and Molly couldn't help but feel sad. She knew this would happen, right from the day he was born. Since the moment he'd stared at her with those alert blue eyes, far too alert for a child, she knew.

He was going to be different. A good different in her eyes. but different.

"You're brilliant, Hamish. You can't let it get to you."

She heard him sigh as he harshly wiped his eyes. "They call me a freak, mother," He spat, "Is that what I am? A _freak_?"

Molly's heart dropped. She could feel the tears prickling in her own eyes. "No, darling. Of course not."

He sat up suddenly, startling her. His eyes studied her face, cold and narrowed, but only for a moment. He often gave her the same cold expression that Sherlock threw at her, but his gaze would always soften into something much more gentle.

He resembled his father a lot; eyes wide like Molly's but a blue - ish, green colour, hair thick, black and curly, sticking out in all directions, Sherlock's cupid bow and distinguished cheekbones.

His eyes were more wide in curiosity than narrowed harshness and he was kind, like Molly. He felt and he showed that he felt, even if he did inherit Sherlock's genius.

"Do not cry, mother. It's not happening to you."

"Have you spoken to your father about it?"

"Do not be so completely ridiculous," He snapped. Well, he wasn't _completely_ un - Sherlock - like.

"Who do you think you're talking to?"

Hamish cowered under Molly's stern glare, glancing down sheepishly. His tone was soft when he next spoke: "I am sorry, mother. Forgive me." He leaned across and pecked her cheek lightly, something he did when he knew he wanted to be forgiven. Of course, it always worked. Molly knew how manipulative he could be. Just like Sherlock.

"I think you should talk to him, Hamish," She continued, "He's been through the exact same thing, even though he'd never admit it."

"I can't _speak_ to him," He scoffed, "He'd shout at me. Tell me how idiotic I am for caring. "Sentiment is found on the losing side." "

"He loves you."

"He loves _you_."

Molly sighed, closing her eyes in frustration. They'd had the same conversation many times before. "Ham -"

"Do not argue with me! As ever you _see_ but you not _observe_. It is tiresome. I wish you'd just open your eyes for once in your dull life. For goodness -"

"Hamish!" She scolded.

His voice become soft again, "I'm sorry."

"That's better."

"Even though I'm right and you're wrong, as always. I'm always right. But do you ever listen? No you do not," He mumbled sulkily.

"Hamish..." She warned.

"Mother!" He jumped up and began to pace, his hands positioned at his lips in a prayer position, something he did when he was annoyed, "Sherlock Holmes has managed to convince everyone that he is asexual. We both know that it not true. I am living proof of that. Sherlock Holmes is also arrogant, stupid and would not do a _thing_ he did not want to. So he /clearly/ wanted to."

"H - "

"You do not see. He watches you in the lab, just watches you as you work and he is able to look away before you notice. You do not observe. You do not see how his cheeks flush. Lightly. Hardly noticeable. But noticeable enough for it to be child's play, really. When Mike tried to fire you for helping Sherlock fake his death, he did everything possible in his power to make sure that didn't happen. Not because of access to the lab but because of you. You. He cares about you mother. You are just too ridiculous to see it."

"I -"

He knelt down and took her hands, his face softening. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap at you. I just wish you could see it. I don't understand your lack of self confidence. You're beautiful, mother. Inside and out. And Sherlock sees it."

Molly gave him a gentle smile. "Goodness help the girl who captures your heart."

"Ew."

Shaking her head, she let out a giggle. "Come on, you. Let's go out to eat tonight. Take your mind off things."

"Finally! I'm glad you've managed to say one sensible thing tonight."


End file.
